


It's Only Love but Gone in the Way of Everything

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-10
Updated: 2006-10-10
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8744770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: A look into the jumbled thoughts and feelings of the Winchester boys. Because even when they don't speak. They feel so beautifully, angstfully and wholly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Title: It's only love but gone in the way of everything  
Author: Pet [[](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[ **crazyjoyfulgirl**](http://crazyjoyfulgirl.livejournal.com/)]  
Characters: Sam/Dean  
Rating: R for Language  
Category: Wincest, slash (If you squint, but I added it in here because I know how I think and I know it's in this wrapped up in everything else)  
Spoilers/Warnings: SPN spoilery thoughts from S1-Episode 22 through and into S2-Episode 1 and 2.  
Disclaimer: I don't own jack. Kripke owns all. Even me. No sue. I'm emo enough for the world as it is. Kthnx!  
Summary: A look into the jumbled thoughts and feelings of the Winchester boys. Because even when they don't speak. They feel so beautifully, angstfully and wholly.  
Notes: First I want to thank my beta [ ](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/profile)[**killerweasel**](http://killerweasel.livejournal.com/) who endures muchly for the sake of me. Thank you Weazie I know you risked a lot to gander at this puppy. Secondly I want to point out the title of this fic is shamelessly stolen from the movie _Dancing at the Blue Iguana_. Where Sandra Oh's character writes poetry and my title comes from one of them. I hearted so I used. Last but no where near least I need you all to know that without this drabble [Kiss The Blood Off My Hands](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/319911.html#cutid1) by my Dumpling, [ ](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/profile)[**bittersweet_art**](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/). This fic would have never been born. So go forth and read that before or after this. Because it's beautiful and it owns me. But yeah, I spend far too much time sometimes trying to get into her head because it's a beautiful place. So this is me trying that. ♥ Thank you Dumpling for letting me shamelessly steal your idea and use it to create this.  
  
_They both broke a little bit more each day.  
  
In different ways and for different reasons, but it all boiled down to them not being able to quit.   
  
Not able to quit the hunt, the killing, the scarlet stains and salty tears on their souls. Unable to quit each other._  
  
  
_But when they curled up together, all skin and flesh and warmth, none of that mattered at all.  
  
Outside, inside, all there ever was. It was just them._ : from [ ](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/profile)[**bittersweet_art**](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/)'s [Kiss The Blood Off My Hands](http://bittersweet-art.livejournal.com/319911.html#cutid1)  
  
****  
You spend your whole life fighting the man. As far back as you can remember, you never listened, not really. Never wanted to. Couldn't understand, didn't want to understand. And it's flooring that the first thought you think when he's gone is, you wanna do right by him. You wanna make him proud. You know it's wrong. You know why you’re doing it. But you just don't care. Grief is grief and you need something to hold unto, something to carry you through. Because god knows your brother isn't going to help you with anything. At least not right now. You’re not sure when that will ever start. You just hope it will. Just like you hope that you can keep lying to yourself about the guilt that's going to explode from your chest any day now.  
  
****  
You’re so sick of it. Sick of the questions, the looks. You want it all to stop. You’re not going to cry a fucking river. You’re not gonna break down and beg for a cuddle. It's done. And you don't understand why everyone else just can't fucking accept that. Your dad is gone and there's fuck all you can do. Revenge isn't bringing him back. Crying all over yourself and blowing out snot trails isn't going to change a damn thing. And you don't need that. You don’t have to let that out. And if one more fucking person tells you to, you swear you'll fuck them up real bad or kill them. You know what it’s like to kill and you didn't even flinch just like you said. You think if the opportunity arose now you wouldn't even blink. Life is absolutely god damn hilarious that way.  
  
****  
It all moves too fast and the pain never stops coming. You just keep suffering hits one after the other after the other. It feels like you’re still on the cold asphalt as the demon's son tries to spread your brains like art over the gravel and dust. You’re rescuing your father, you’re facing off with the demon, and you’re trying to make a gun move because your brother can't die. He can't die, you can't lose him. Not Dean, never Dean. You’re in a hospital, you’re standing over your brother, you’re almost watching your brother die, you’re talking to him from a damned ouiji board, you’re fighting with your father, and you’re watching Dean come back.   
  
Your father doesn't fight back, he looks tired and sad and so sorry. Your father is on the ground and you think...so stupid. How could you be so stupid? No, no, no, no. Dad come on, come on, come on please, please Dad, Dad please. And then this, now, here watching his body burn to ash and you can't stop the tears. They are endless, infinite, careless in their destruction of your soul. You’re bleeding chunks of yourself out with each drop. But it's still more than your brother does. And you think it's alright that you’re emptying yourself out to nothingness. You’re just taking care of some of Dean's share.  
  
****  
You can't. You just can't. It’s too much, too soon. Always been that way since as far back as you can remember. And you can't be tired because you've always been tired and you can't be angry because you've always been angry. You can't be sad because your life is just sad. Life is bullshit. Life just is. And this is yours. The one you've been dealt. The one that stares you in the face everyday. The one that laughs at you, mocks you, scares you and thrills you. And it isn't like you didn't anticipate this. It's not like you didn't see it coming. Death happens every damn day. Especially like this in this world that you live. It's just you thought. You let yourself think. You could stop it, change it, steer the course and change the fucking world destroying one demon at a time til you got to the one that mattered. But you knew you would be the one behind to bury them...him. Him. Just him. Not them yet. And if you have any damn say it will stay that way. But you can't think, can't deal. It's taking enough damn energy just to not. Not give in, break down, lash out, cry like a litte bitch. Cry like a boy who just lost his father. Cry like a kid who is finally officially a orphan. Cry like a person who's been given a secret so important and dear you can't share it with anyone least of all the person it's about. And that's the only person you ever could. And you just can't deal.  
  
****  
It's been nearly a week and you’re sick of it, sick of watching, waiting. So you start pushing, prodding, asking, demanding. But he doesn't give. He doesn't give you anything. And you feel wounded, angry, alienated and lonely. You want things. You need things. And you’re really starting to freak that you’re never going to get them ever, ever again. You think that finally things are so broken they aren't ever going to be fixed. It's not like the Impala. It's not like that all. You watch him fix it piece by piece and he never talks. He doesn't talk about it, or you, or dad or anything at all really. He grunts and works and sweats and works some more. Sometimes he doesn't even stop to eat. And then you have to watch Bobby pitch a fit because he doesn't listen to you. He disregards you, passes you by. And you wonder if he blames you. You’re starting to blame yourself. But you just want to touch him. Just a touch. Like the one that was robbed from you before your dad died. You didn't get to touch him. Not when he was living, breathing and pulsing with life. You didn't get that. And now you’re afraid that you'll never touch anything or anyone again because the only person you want to touch doesn't even see you.   
  
****  
Your gut it still feels wrong. Your insides churn sometimes and it's not even hunger. Your ears still burn with knowledge you didn't ask for. And your heart is a stinking pit of black tar nothing. You know that it's wrong, selfish and hateful. But you don't give a shit right now. You can't focus or think or process or accept. And you can't let him close, let him in. You can't do that right now. You want to, fuck you want to. In so many different god damn ways it's scary and dirty and pretty. But you won't and you cannot. There's too much. Too much in you and you know too much in him. He might be the book nerd of the bunch but you know that if you push together two burning balls of fire and gas the result isn't going to be good. So you distance yourself and you do what you can do. You work on your car and you close yourself down and everything you miss you’re gonna be so damn sorry for. But not yet.  
  
****  
You find something and you cling to it because you have to. You can't and won't give up. Not on him, not on anything. You’re gonna do whatever needs to be done. And your going to fight tooth and nail. All this hasn't happened for nothing. And your whole life hasn't come this far for you to lose and fall. Since you were born you've had things taken, taken from you. Not anymore. Especially now. Especially him. Never him. Whatever it takes, how ever long. Even when your called out on all your bullshit and you call him out on his. You still won't give up. Because it's love. Because it's everything. And he's yours.  
  
****  
So you do this thing, you jump back into the wagon because it's what he wants. And you just don't have the fight in you to argue. You've said your peace and you've got out the shit you needed to. And yeah he pushed you and pushed you and now you gotta fix shit all over again on the Impala. But it's not over, not by a long shot. The road it's gonna be bumpy and shit is going to hit the fan. You’re sure of it. You got a secret that pretty much guarantees it. But he ain't gonna let you just shut up and move on. And your not gonna let him push you further than your ready to go. But you know your gonna protect him. You know your gonna do more than that. Because you aren't losing him. You aren't giving him up. Your dad handed him over completely right before. Your dad asked one last thing. Your dad told you one last thing. And you'll do anything for him. Your dad knew that. Because he's everything. And he's yours.  
  
~End~


End file.
